


Dorogaya

by shotahime



Series: Trophy Wife [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Marriage, Implied Sexual Content, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Sexual Slavery, Size Difference, Trophy Wife Hermione Granger, bc I love when villains win for once, not HEA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:33:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26697544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotahime/pseuds/shotahime
Summary: In Voldemort's new world, the only place for Hermione as a mudblood is the bed of her husband.
Relationships: Antonin Dolohov/Hermione Granger
Series: Trophy Wife [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942792
Comments: 5
Kudos: 84





	Dorogaya

**Author's Note:**

> hello!!! welcome to my new series of the Voldemort Wins AU featuring Hermione as a trophy wife to three different people hehe here's the first one with Antonin
> 
> also this is dubcon, but the rules would be applied to non-con
> 
> and I'm not like in the mood to write explicit smut, so imma just stick to vague smut

Her personal title as the Brightest Witch of Her Age as well as being best friends with the Chosen One had its uses after the war quite fetchingly—it at least saved her from the torture for being a fighter from the other side.

Tragedy had struck the Wizarding World in Britain.

Now with Lord Voldemort in reign, nothing was the same ever again in both muggle and magical world.

After Harry Potter had fallen—twice under the wand of Lord Voldemort, the Order was given a choice; submit to the Death Eaters, or die trying to leave the premise.

The Weasleys were the first ones to go—sparing the youngest daughter to be Lord Voldemort’s consort as a jab to the late hero that not only has Lord Voldemort ended his life, but also took what was his and deep down, Tom Riddle wanted to get reacquainted with the girl who grew up beautifully who had his journal.

The Malfoys were executed next for treason in Narcissa’s part where she lied about believing him to be dead the first time. Such as shame the Malfoy line had ended in such tragedy with no one able to uphold their pureblood supremacy.

Bellatrix Lestrange took no time to waste to reunite Neville Longbottom with his parents—in her opinion, she was doing him a favour.

Which finally leaves us to Hermione Granger—number one in Hogwarts academics, most prominent mudblood in all history and the sole survivor of the Golden Trio.

But that’s what made her bride price through the roof.

Initially, she was to be disposed of alongside the other mudbloods that were present before they could flee the country. But Antonin Dolohov had graciously asked the Dark Lord to have her gifted to him instead.

His reasons being that he wanted a legacy of his own and despite the poor breeding of the girl, her intelligence is what makes up her value and not to mention her notorious reputation in war. And after she had survived the ghastly hex that scarred her torso, Antonin supposed she deserved his attention after all.

Which brings to little miss Hermione Dolohov, who was forced to drop her muggle name in favour of a more prominent wizarding last name to show the world her value. The gold band decorated with glittering stones on her dainty left hand is her daily reminder that it’s the only reason why she’s surviving in today’s time.

If that were it, then she would have rather rot on the grounds of Hogwarts.

* * *

Hermione jumped out of her trance after she was busy scowling at the ring of her finger when the doors to the enclosure she was locked in slammed open, revealing her husband’s bulking size as he walked through before shutting the door behind him.

“I’m home, dorogaya,” he greeted in his usual gruff voice, his accent heavy as always even though he had spent almost a decade already in Britain. Hermione hopped off of where she sat and dragged her legs over to the front door where her husband was kicking off his heavy boots onto the floor as she cringed at the dirt that was now scattered on the floor.

Antonin’s stern expression softened immediately after seeing his wife dressed in nothing but a sheer slip so he could always see his work of art that had marred her torso starting from the navel of her stomach up until below her collarbone—it was his favourite place to rain his kisses on.

“Come here, moy milyy,” after Antonin had taken his usual spot on the oversized wingbacked chai, he patted his thigh to indicate where he had her wanted. Hermione sighed as she paced her way towards him before she had to physically climb over him due to his large size and planted herself on his thigh and his hand automatically found their way on her hips to steady her.

Hermione pressed her eyes closed, letting Antonin leaning forward and nuzzled his bearded face alongside the skin of her neck, breathing her scent in deeply as he pressed on some kisses along the way.

“I missed you,” he murmured into her ear as she couldn’t help but to squirm, she had to hold on to his broad shoulders to keep her from falling off of him. “Did you miss me?” Antonin tilted her chin with his unoccupied hand so that she was looking at him.

Did she miss him? Of course she didn’t—the hours he disappeared to was the only time for her to actually breathe. Those were the only times where she could plan and scheme to get out of the house and survive the world that was out there.

Hermione couldn’t stand how she’s being paraded about the other Death Eaters when there was a social event where Antonin was invited to. She couldn’t even fake her joy and gratitude to be able to live another day all thanks to Antonin’s own personal desire on her. The least he could do was threatening to snap anyone’s hand off if they tried to do something to her, thankfully but to be a prisoner in his bed would be the last thing she would want.

Instead, Hermione didn’t answer—she just sighed and captured his lips in which he growled before dominating the kiss. He loved to hold her like this—having her fit into the mold of his body while his hands could easily cover the span of her stomach. It made him feel so much power to have someone that he could easily snap in half if he would feel like it.

But no—he cherished her so much after what happened in the war.

The sole survivor to his curse and the only one that could have matched with his power if she were given the chance to perform magic again.

And to think he finally have her to himself—it’s as if he’s already won in life.

Lifting her by the hips, Hermione instantly wrapped her legs around him which she couldn’t even cross her ankles due to his width, Antonin carried her all the way back to their shared bedroom where he’d laid her on her back and worked to remove the rest of his clothes.

Antonin loomed over her once he was already bare—and the size of this man still intimidated her each time he would try to get intimate with her. The large span of his hand moved up her thigh to bunch up the slip of her dress, feeling her smooth skin against his roughened hands before taking it off of her and tossed it behind his shoulder.

His bearded face tickled against her skin, Hermione couldn’t help but to squirm when he had laid kisses on her decolletage as he slipped his hand underneath the straps of her knickers where she could feel her entrance being ghosted by a singular finger.

Hermione gasped when a digit was eased inside her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Antonin smirked into crook of her neck as he continued his ministrations with his hands and her body, accompanied by Russian sweet nothings that Hermione had already heard since their time together, but never took the time to find out what he was saying.

Antonin slipped another finger inside her, which already felt double the size than it should and it had Hermione light headed from the non-stop movement in her deepest core. It made Antonin extremely aroused, to own all of her pleasure and for him to give her that as well.

He was like a man possessed when it came to his wife.

When Hermione fell apart, her whole body arched as he encouraged her to ride the high against his hand. She fell back against the soft bed as Antonin planted kisses on her face while comforting her in soft Russian.

Slipping his fingers out of her, Antonin then dragged her knickers down before losing them to join the rest of the pile of clothes on the floor and lifted his leg over her, essentially straddling her as he took his own length in his hand to slow strokes while prodding her entrance with the head.

Hermione could only sigh, as she closed her eyes and thought of England, or what it’s used to be in the past.

* * *

After a couple of rounds together, Hermione was curled into her husband’s side as he languidly ran his hands up and down the purple, marred skin of hers with his other hand propped behind his head. They both were thinking about something else with an absent mind, neither talking nor sharing about it.

“I was thinking of moving into a bigger house,” Antonin suddenly sounded which brought Hermione’s attention back to the room. She only hummed in response, probably thinking that they would eventually move to somewhere closer to work so he doesn’t have to waste time trying to get home to her.

“A couple of rooms would be nice, we would need all the space,” he nonchalantly mentioned which made Hermione stilled for a moment. “Why would we need more room?” Hermione lifted her head to meet with her husband’s gaze as cocked an eyebrow at her, as if it wasn’t obvious what he was talking about.

“For the children, of course—I’m thinking for long-term planning of course,” he explained in a tone that made Hermione felt like he just insulted her intelligence.

“C-Children?” Hermione’s brain short-circuited for a while at the mention of children. While they were married, Antonin had never mentioned having them, or even brought up the topic to her and asked her opinion about it. Now all of a sudden, he wanted them without no prior planning whatsoever.

“Yes—I was thinking three, it would be nice to have them keeping you company while I’m gone,” Antonin’s hand had drifted beneath the navel of her stomach, right on top of where her womb would be as he imagined it being swollen with his child.

“I can’t wait, dorogaya,” Antonin pressed kisses alongside her hairline as Hermione tried to process the whole thing where her decision didn’t really matter at all in the sense.

“I can’t wait for you to be round with my child,” his hand once more circled over where her womb was.

“I can’t wait for your breasts to get heavier with milk,” he brought his hand up to cup the decent size of her breast which couldn’t fill his whole hand and thumbed her nipple that had hardened.

“And you’re going to be so good at raising them to be brilliant children,” Antonin praised and Hermione could feel the hardness of his length in the cusp of her rear as he grounded into her.

“In fact,” Antonin repositioned himself at the entrance of her core.

“Let’s start trying, _now.”_

Hermione could only pray that his hex did do some internal damage to her as a tear slid down her cheek.


End file.
